


Unlike Them

by CadyWimzie



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Bittersweet, Egg Hatching, Past, Protectiveness, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-22 10:55:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15580416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CadyWimzie/pseuds/CadyWimzie
Summary: On a seemingly uneventful night when 'Furies of lighter scales hide from view, an old, well-traveled dragon happens upon an egg that blends perfectly with the timely blackness of Raven Point.





	1. Chapter 1

Raven Point was neither a safe, nor conventional place for Nubful to be. Setting aside the dragon-killing village a little under a hundred miles away, it also wasn't his usual terrain; his kind preferred luminescent shrubbery and colorful things. Bright springs of water that were as clear as a gander up toward the endless sky. Sparkly sand and rock that complimented equally sparkly, white scales, that glimmered especially so when a wing was extended or an eyelid was batted.

Raven Point was dark dreariness. Logs still dampened by recent rainfall, and non-complimentary mud and general haunting nature. The area creaked with overbearing trees that were as tall as the clouds.

The area seemed safe enough, given recent events. The old dragon walked with a stint in his wings, adjusting them constantly to fit through narrower spaces but, mostly, holding them half open in case a hasty retreat was needed. There was enough room in this forest for a takeoff, and Nubful wasn't the largest of dragons.

Of Light Furies, perhaps. But the larger a Light Fury was, the more they stuck out. Nubful couldn't speak for all of his kind, but he detested sticking out.

Something that certainly  _did_  stick out, very physically, was an apparent bump in his path. Something he thought at first to be a mound in the earth, shaped oddly. When it moved, he thought it to be a rock. But for the split second its texture touched his foreleg and he heard it roll away from him, he quickly ruled out that possibility.

What it felt like to him, with all of his years and experience, was an egg. More than that, it felt like an egg a  _Light Fury_  would lay, as he observed when he took a few steps closer without kicking it again and set claw on it, incredibly gentle. Dragon eggs could be even stronger than boulders, he knew, but his demeanor changed solely  _because_  of the chance a hatchling was inside, developing in the safety of the tough,  _tough_  shell.

He saw the thin streaks of florescent purple painted over the object, glowing in the shadow that kept him from seeing it fully otherwise. The only quality it lacked was the egg itself; the scaly, white, and lightly sparkled surface, illuminated by the hallmark streaks of lilac.

Nubful didn't see it. All he saw was a surface absent of the light color he was so familiar with. He lowered his head to the ground with a soft, curious hum, touching it with his nose. There was a warmth within it still, pulsating away through those lavender-pigmented threads. A sign of life.

Why here? Such a mistake was unthinkable of his kind. He was not followed from his neck of the woods by another Light Fury, and even if he was, this was not the right time of the year for eggs. Unless, of course...

Ear nubs lying flat, Nubful cast his attention skyward again, searching for movement in the stars themselves. A black silhouette, or a blinding flash of plasma to rival his own. A twig snapped in the woodland behind him, making him scare and quickly incline his neck downward again to grab up the egg in his teeth. He took flight shortly thereafter, catapulting himself up toward the patchy canopy and disappearing through the leaves, achieving comfortable height in seconds.

 

 

His bay came into sight, adorned with aquatic, glimmering plant life under the surface of the water and a shallow cave on the sand big enough for him to lie down inside of. Nubful dove in for a landing, and, upon claws almost touching the sand, he dropped the egg so as not to jostle or squeeze it any more than he already had. The large dragon landed beside it and began nudging it along across the beach with his nose again, slow and steady. The warmth inside was diminishing still, worrying him. The purple streaks were growing dim.

The light from the moon revealed to him that this was not an egg belonging to a Light Fury, but something eerily similar. Nubful had a hunch. He pushed it all the way to his den and then a little farther after that, working it toward the small hot spring nearby. With one last poke of his snout, it fell over the top of the steep hill and into the water with its rounded side sticking out unsubmerged.

With that, Nubful lied down, crossing his big forepaws in front of him and watching the egg bob around with the bubbles.

For now, all it needed was a little encouragement.

The matter of what kind of dragon this egg came from was a tricky one, indeed. Nubful knew them to look quite like Light Furies, but with black scales. Just as different, they had no trouble making their presence known to humans like all the other dragon types-- something Light Furies never did. Just as  _similar_ , they were powerhouses in every merit, perhaps not having the same abilities as Light Furies but making up for that with their own unique versatility. They were fearsome, persistent, accurate sharpshooters, although not very territorial.

The most distinguishable trait that made them stand apart from Light Furies, however, was their thinning numbers. There were not many of them left near this bay, or near Raven Point, or in any of the many surrounding archipelagos he had ever been to. They were becoming rare at an alarming rate.

Nubful didn't doubt he would live to see the day every last one was gone; disappeared or migrated or hidden so well in the night that not even the sharpest of eyes could find them in all of their stealthy grace.

He fell asleep there in the sand, listening to the spring pop away.

 

 

He awoke to a sprinkle of warm water hitting his head spines. The air carried the mist up, tossing it around the beach. The morning was soft-colored and pleasant, drawing a contented stretch out of him. He warbled happily at the return of the sun and stood, looking over the hot spring... to find that the egg was  **gone**.

His eyes widened with panic and he sharply turned, kicking up a spray of white sand. By the shoreline, a female Light Fury could be seen lounging. Closer to Nubful, two hatchlings that were obviously hers played. It was only when Nubful looked closer that he realized the thing they were pouncing on and batting around was the egg in question,which was spinning and flying through the sand at their every administration.

Nubful trotted over with a huff flaring his nostrils. He caught the egg when it strayed too close to one of his paws, pushing it down into the sand while the hatchlings complained in shrieking voices. He picked it up in his teeth again and padded a few paces away from them with it. He sat down, but they only followed him, bright eyes locked on the object they saw as a toy. Nubful held it up and away from them, groaning in annoyance when they started pawing at his chest for it.

So occupied with them, he didn't notice when the female several feet away lifted her head from its drowsy hang and gawked in a very specific direction. The movement eventually drew Nubful's attention, who dropped the egg back into the sand when his mouth flew agape. Without warning, she swiveled around fast and roared, making her hatchlings recede off of Nubful and run to her before he could figure out why.

Nosing them toward the shoreline, the female took one last glance behind her before urging them into the water. They dawdled straight in without argument, until their heads were submerged as well as their bodies, letting the bay swallow them up. She walked in after them, following them underwater after taking a deep breath herself.

Nubful was already on his feet by this point, knowing full well what this protocol meant. He was preparing to follow them before he remembered his obligation, but by that point he was a few steps down the beach, away from his most recent purpose. He heard quick footsteps attacking the sand all of a sudden, making him jump.

Light Furies didn't  _just_  hide from humans. They hid from all dragons as well; albeit something Nubful hadn't always abided by in his day. One thing he  _had_  always done well was steer clear of humans.

Today was the day he broke both rules, finally.

A pair of gloved hands closed around the egg. It was all Nubful was paying attention to before he heard the voice, oozing with ill intent: "A Night Fury  _egg_? I haven't seen one of these in  _years_..."

The man wore a long coat and lowered hood, not befitting of the hunters Nubful was accustomed to seeing in their usual tunics and horned helmets. He was smooth-faced and fair-skinned, with gallantly styled blond hair. One human was quite a bit much, so when a second one showed up dressed in similar clothing and donning an impatient expression, Nubful's tail began lashing.

"You talk to yourself any more, you'll bring the damned thing's parents upon us," said the latter, retracting his hood to reveal curly, black hair. "In any case, Grimmel will appreciate this find. He spoke of a process quite like it; hatching the egg in safe conditions and allowing the dragon to grow strong. 'It is the thrill of the chase of the hunt,' he always says, 'that trumps one driven by hatred for the dragon you're pursuing. Better you admire your trophy beforehand to gain full satisfaction from the kill.'"

Nubful didn't know what they were saying, but their tones coaxed a fear-induced growl out of him, low and menacing. Both humans looked up sharply, but neither flinched, squinting as if finding it difficult to see.

"Is that...?" The first human maneuvered the egg to sit squarely on his palm and forearm, using his other hand to shield his eyes from the sun. "Is that a  _dragon_?"

"Sure looks like one," the second answered, performing the same gesture. His eyes widened somewhat, never leaving Nubful. "My gods! It's a spitting image of the Night Fury!"

"Hardly!" scoffed his partner. "Are you forgetting that Night Furies are black?"

"I am no fool! Look at its face, Oskar! Its legs and its tail! I've never seen anything like it, but it must be a sub species of some sort!"

"Yes... and... it seems to be threatening us."

"Hardly a problem." He drew a familiar contraption from his back, as well as an odd stick with a pointed end. Nubful's throat heated up. "Get a head start with the egg and I will neutralize this beast."

"That I can do," Oskar said. He passed the egg over his shoulder into a satchel hanging from his back.

Nubful's forepaw scored the sand, and with an infuriated rear of both limbs, he charged. Oskar disappeared into the bushes, and his armed partner jumped out of the line of fire, rolling skillfully. He uprighted, crouching, and Nubful took to the air, swooping in on him. The human drew his weapon and released the stick from it, sending it soaring over the beach. Nubful spun away from it, mouth gaped open in a soundless hiss. He felt the non-pointy part graze his tailfin, but it did no damage.

During the reprieve, he let the plasma go, shooting to kill. The man wasn't ready to defend himself and almost didn't fall back in time. He fell over backwards, an iron grip still on his contraption, and Nubful moved in at breakneck speed. A simple flyover and a mighty whack to the hunter's head with his paw-- no claws used and all clubbing force-- rendered the stranger unable to continue the fight. Nubful saw him fall limp out of the corner of his vision, but didn't turn around.

His wings pumped him over the shrubbery Oskar left through. His head turned back and forth periodically, surveying the ground while he gunned forward, gliding fast. He soon zeroed in on the egg-napper and shrieked resentfully to signal his presence. Wind stroked his scales as he dived.

"GODS!" screamed the man, voice cracking.

Nubful flew over and landed a few feet in front of him, amid patches of grass a yard removed from the bay. In seconds he was stalking toward him, nose wrinkling and teeth showing, wings flaring out. Oskar backed up slowly, but it did very little against the giant dragon cornering him's incurring lunge. A blood-curdling roar sliced him before the pounce did-- both metaphorically. He moved and Nubful's aim was thrown, but they both still collided hard. The weight of his shoulder ramming into Oskar's arm sent the man whirling to the ground, landing on his stomach. Nubful immediately braced a paw on his lower back and nudged the egg out of the satchel, still seething and therefore still buffeting the man's light-colored hair with searing hot breath rolling out of his nostrils.

The hunter was very still now, but breathing. Fear paralyzed his body. Nubful felt he, himself, had done enough and scooped the egg up in his mouth just before taking to the skies again, rolling up toward the clouds where no weapons could harm him.


	2. Chapter 2

He traveled for longer this time. His breathing cooled down and evened out, and for all of its previous stress, Nubful came to realize that holding the egg in his mouth was helping it to keep warm.

In time and over the course of the following evening, he found a tall cliff face shrouded in fog hanging over the vast sea, miles and miles from his comfortable bay den. Along it were narrow ridges where more Light Furies could be seen bouncing along, wriggling fish in their mouths.

Nubful landed on a ledge adjacent to the dark, damp entrance of a cave. Gray clouds were gathering in the sky; Nubful knew it wasn't an ideal place for him anymore. He carried the egg inside and found another spring, where he set the egg to sink down while he listened to the scritches of 'Fury claws on the rock outside.

They would not accept this 'Night' Fury into their fold. It would hatch and be shunned. This much Nubful knew, and was in no place to change or make better by his own contribution.

This hatchling would be raised by the wild, and not its own kind.

For now, Nubful's job was to make sure it hatched.

The very instance of this occurred just two days later, when a soft, smooth whistle permeated through the cave and Nubful's head was down, in the midst of a nap. He quickly lifted his head and body both, trotting to the spot on the floor where it lay and plopping it back into the spring as fast as anything. The whistle persisted underwater, as the plasma streaks glowed and bigger cracks spidered out from them, its entire mass shaking.

Nubful couldn't help but watch the spectacle, denouncing standing back for his own safety and propping himself up on the hill overlooking the water. It seemed only a few seconds longer before the egg erupted,  _exploding_  in a swarm of bubbles and breaking the surface of the water. The floor of the pool was illuminated in purple for a moment. Nubful closed his eyes quickly as hot water splashed his face and chest, splattering his neck and wings, and  _lingering_  even as he shook off.

His concern wasn't for himself; watching the empty space where the broken shell pieces floated off in different directions and humming worriedly. A warm weight suddenly butted up against his foreleg, dripping with spring water. Nubful looked down and purred delightedly as a pair of green eyes blinked drowsily in the dark, struggling to focus. He hurriedly scruffed the hatchling and carried it out of the cave, giving silent thanks to the fact that it was nighttime and no other Light Furies were hanging about.

He jumped into the air, letting the wind catch his wings and carry him over the crashing waves. He did a turnabout to fly above the mouth of the cave and over the cliff face, listening to the hatchling wail at all the conflicting noises assaulting its ears. Nubful reached the other side of the caves in haste, finding windswept grass and concealing trees there; the welcoming gate of an untapped archipelago.

Down in the concealed brush, he spotted a Monstrous Nightmare tail sliding out of view. Nubful alighted closer to the cliff face on this dry side of the rocks, setting the wobbly hatchling down and nudging it into the deeper, ground-level cave there. They moved inside before a discerning eye--  _or_  a stray fireball shot by a nearby resident-- could give away where they were. The baby's gradually hushed whimpering stood out enough on its own to do that all by itself.

 

 

The following morning, Nubful was ushering the hatchling out of the cave and through tall grass for cover, to the watering hole nearby; these conditions were incredibly livable. He pressed the baby between his strong forelegs as he inclined his neck, trained eyes searching through the shadow he cast over the water for fish. Icelandic cod, perhaps.

Movement stirred and he shot his head down, forelegs separating somewhat as he caught something in his jaws. Water dripped from his chin as he stood to his full height, a shiny-scaled fish much too small for himself hanging from his forceful bite. The low, guttural groan of an adult dragon made him swing his head around, in time to spot a Gronckle landing in the tall grass behind him.

Being as big as she was, the Gronckle couldn't very well hide in there. She could be seen plodding through the cover and then emerging somewhere out of sight, where the patch ended.

It was then that Nubful realized the object of his attention-- now for nearly a whole sennight-- was missing. Gone from directly beneath his chest. He carried the tiny fish with him as he searched around for him, inwardly lamenting how much easier he was to look after when he didn't have legs.

Luckily, his search wasn't a long one; making small warbling noises that tipped Nubful off to his location was the hatchling, who was stalking something crawling on the ground with wiggling shoulders and hindquarters farther down the water, his small, stubby wings flopping around carelessly and dragging. Nubful chased him into the tall grass, parting it a great deal and constantly looking down to check to make sure he wasn't about to run the short-legged dragon over. The little one was surprisingly fast in spite of them.

Nubful broke through the last of the long stalks, claws hitting hard, packed dirt. It was only to come upon a gathering of sorts of all different types of dragons, lying low in the grass or fishing alongside foreign species. He watched two Deadly Nadders play a game of tug 'o war while another, more mild-mannered female was gathered around by two eager hatchlings, who she happily fed by way of regurgitated fish. It reminded Nubful of the fish he still had hanging from his teeth, as he stood stock-still in the middle of it all, admittedly spooked. Movement breezed past his foreleg again, making him glance down and, very soon, act fast: throwing his paw out and creating a wall for  _his_  hatchling-- who was busy hunting a moth-- to run right into, causing a head-on collision and a dopey fall to the ground, in a heap of untrained wings and confused limbs.

Though out of practice, Nubful recalled past memories and was able to work from there, letting the fish fall into his mouth and chewing it up uncertainly. As soon as the little black-scaled dragon knew what he was doing, he was on his hind legs with tiny paws braced on his much bigger chest, a forked tongue poking out of his toothless mouth. Nubful gave him his fill, which, considering the size of the fish, was every last bit of it.

With the deed done, Nubful panned around their surroundings with critical eyes, while the hatchling gratefully licked his chops-- or lack of.

 

 

The female Nadder was awfully docile, and Nubful found himself comfortable around her. It was apparent she had never seen a Light Fury before, and so he traded  _his_  standing still while she sniffed him for  _her_  restraint from making any sudden movements that would otherwise cause him to fly away. He was beginning to realize how little he cared for being out in the open like this, where other dragons could see him for extended periods of time.

A fleeting five seconds or so was fine by him.

This Nadder and her hatchlings also took a shine to the baby in his care; the mother overbearingly giving the little dragon a once-over as he playfully swatted at the two others, a pleasant glint in those acid-green eyes and a thump to his finned tail. They stayed with them well into the evening-- even for how jumpy Nubful was.

As the sun set, he got up from his lounge and accidentally dislodged one of the smaller Deadly Nadders, who was perched on his tail. Dragons called from all about, in the trees and from the sky. Crickets were starting to set in, and all was serene. A waterfall rushed at a distance and multiple fish skipped out of the river Nubful could actually  _see_ , silver scales reflecting the purple dusk.

This place was perfect.

With a small,  _"Humph!"_  and a swish of his free tail, Nubful turned on his axis, careful of where he stepped now. He made eye contact with the drowsy-faced Nadder, who blinked open her yellow eyes from their half-lidded state and watched him reach out with his paw, pushing the hyperactive, green-eyed hatchling toward her. Her spiky head lifted, pupils shrinking not in malice but in alertness.

As Nubful looked down, an odd glow brought him away from this task, coming from his foreleg and chest. It illuminated the tall grass surrounding them, but radiated no sound or physical sensation-- painful, pleasurable, or otherwise. Scaring, he backed up into the tall grass, far more alarmed at the way it followed him. He felt like a firefly.

In a show of panic, he burst up from the lush stalks, wings unfolding and increasing the brightness he emanated. He remained hovered over the clearing the Nadder family inhabited, long, leathery appendages continuously beating and the glare from his skin making it difficult for him to see them. He made a break for the watering hole he caught a fish from earlier, landing heavily behind a  _whoosh_  of wind. His claws sunk under the surface, digging into the sand beneath, and took an unpremeditated gander down at his unstill image.

He saw streaks of lilac light rippling in the water, moving with his silhouette. He jabbed at the water with his paw, and the abrupt strike-out offered a glimpse at the unusual markings splattered across his skin. They reminded him of those found on a Light Fury egg, or... those found on the egg he recently watched hatch.

The same general area he had gotten splashed during the explosion of the egg inside the spring, coated in an armor of... well, _light_. Nubful could no longer see the landscape below him, and so he sunk back down,  _slowly_ , into the pond. The tips of his massive wings whipped up a spray before his claws dug into the floor of the small water source. He was submerged like a crocodile, blue eyes with gold around the pupils and a set of soft but bountiful nubs the only components to his large cranium poking above the surface. Clear droplets ran down his wings as he watched the cloud-obstructed sun leave the valley.

He was too afraid to open his eyes after that.

 

 

He had been in and out of sleep for most of the night, tossing and turning and only stopping when he sent up a large splash, startling himself.

The water was a place of sanctuary for a Light Fury, and so it wasn't uncommon for Nubful to forget he was chin-deep in it sometimes.

As the events of the previous night rolled through his brain, so too did the sun roll in. Leaf-shaped shadows freckled his scales as he trudged up onto dry sand, looking through half-lidded eyes at his own self. He was soaked, yes, but no trace of the unnatural, glowing markings his body had donned. Either he had washed it away in the pond or it had all been a dream.

...or, perhaps,  _neither_ , as the following night came upon him again in the lonely hours afterward, and he could do nothing to stop his scales from  _glowing_  in messy patches of blinding, pale purple, just like earlier. 

He was a beacon for all the attention he worked to avoid for most of his life, and he missed his inconspicuous shadow of a hatchling like one would miss their own.

He was marked, for better or for worse. His subconscious-led search for the Deadly Nadder he interacted with the night before brought him to the very top of a tree that bowed under his weight and oversaw the valley. As dawn light washed over the grass and his seeing improved, his markings sizzled away again.

Gone. Like they were never there.

Nubful felt a strange tug of loss this time.

This was the very reason why, when he  _did_  spot the ragtag dragon family straggling beneath the overhanging branches of the swaying trees caught under his hawkish stare, he flew down with purpose. He landed in front of them all with such abruptness that they jumped back. The older female pulled the 'Fury hatchling in with her long, spiky tail, and a growl rippled her wide maw.

Nubful lowered his head to the ground. It took a few moments, but he was never attacked. He felt a gentle tapping on his face and opened his wide eyes again, staring straight into those bright green ones he watched emerge from a discarded egg.

The little one was still playing. It was a safe bet he never stopped, in fact.

He would get into the worst kind of trouble, no doubt. Worse  _still_ , if he were to have a white-scaled dragon with glowing purple splotches tagging along with him, blowing his cover in the thick blanket of night. Nubful had his cloaking, but it wasn't an action he could perform perpetually.

He had done all he could do.

He departed after giving the tiny dragon a well-meaning nudge with his nose; an affectionate gesture. He parted the tall grass, turned tail, and lifted off. Wing strokes were hurried as they carried him higher and higher, terrace breezing by under his closely tucked forelegs. He flew over the cliff face again as the morning resumed, headed back to the cave the egg hatched in to rest.

He wasn't sure what it was about the night that appealed to him so much more now than it ever had before. The nights where he could glide under the stars, more careful than he was accustomed to being, for the sake of keeping not only himself but the dragons he happened upon safe from killers.

Sometimes, by chance, he would  _see_  the hatchling, either by himself or with others. Sound asleep or playfully pouncing on a firefly. And Nubful would be relieved to see him still doing well, still  _persisting_ against the odds, and learning how to be the strongest 'Fury of them all.

In a world where darker-scaled 'Furies were disappearing fast, Nubful still had faith in the toothless little wanderer.


End file.
